to be becoming reconciled to inactivity. He was sitting in the living-room reading “Lee’s Lieutenants” while she listened to some quiz show on the radio.
I made the business talk as brief as possible, not playing up the advertising ideas too much because I didn’t want to run the risk of starting an argument and getting him heated up. He grunted more or less approvingly at most of the details, and nodded once or twice. “Sounds all right,” he said. “I guess you’ll make out.”
“I think so,” I said. She had turned off the radio and was wandering restlessly around the room. I could see she was bored, and I wondered what she’d try next. But I wasn’t afraid of her any more.
“How are you getting along with Miss Harper?” he asked.
I grinned. “I remembered what you told me. We’re going to be married in November, so I’ll be able to mistreat her all I want.”
He gave me that probing look, and then his face softened a little. I thought he was going to smile. “Marry her, huh? You’re beginning to show signs of intelligence. When you get that girl it’ll be the best day’s work you ever did.”
“I know it,” I said. I happened to look up at her just then. She was behind him, adjusting the Venetian blinds. She turned and looked at me with that malicious smile on her face.
“I think that’s wonderful,” she said. “She’s such a sweet girl.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I know you’ll both be very happy.” The smile slipped a little and you could see past it. She was raging. I wondered how long it’d be before I heard from her.
It wasn’t very long. It was that same night.
It was around midnight. I was coming back from taking Gloria home and as I pulled up in front of the rooming house another car came up behind me. I stepped out, and it came up alongside and stopped. A voice said softly, “Get in,” and I knew who it was. I got in. It would be, the last time.
She went on around the block and over to Main, turning north and gunning it fast along the highway. “How’s the happy bridegroom?” she asked.
“Not bad,” I said.
“But I’m rushing it a little, aren’t I? You’re not a bridegroom yet; you’re just engaged. You’re lovely, and you’re engaged. Isn’t that sweet?”
“Yes,” I said. “And what’s on your mind?”
“You’d never guess, would you?”
“I thought I told you the last time. We’re through.”
“We are like hell. Remember?”
She pulled off on to a side road and stopped.
“Well,” she said, “so I’m just going to sit around on my hands and let you and that angel-faced candy kid get away with it, am I? The two of you’re just too cute for anything. You make me sick.”
“Go ahead,” I said. “Tell me all about it. And when you get through I’ll tell you.”
“You’re not going to marry her. In November, or any other time. I thought we’d straightened that out already.”
“You’ve got some other plan in mind?”
“You’re damned right I have. You’re going to marry me.”
“I thought the bag limit was one husband at a time.”
“Maybe I’m thinking of getting a divorce.”
It was something about the way she said it. She didn’t mean divorce. Or I didn’t think she did. It was just an awful feeling that I was very close to knowing, for the first time, what she was really driving at. She could have left him any time, and he’d probably give her a divorce whenever she asked for it. Maybe she was waiting for more. He’d had two heart attacks—It was a little sickening.
“All right,” I said. “Get a divorce. But not on my account. I’ve told you what I’m going to do.”
“You think I’m bluffing, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“What do you suppose the Sheriff’ll do when he finds out what really happened that day?”
“So you’re going to tell him?”
“Certainly I am.”
“And have you thought over what’s going to happen when you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll go to jail.”
“Who do you think you’re kidding?”
“Nobody. If I committed a crime, you’re an accessory to it. I say if I committed one. You don’t know, you see. But if I did, now you’re as guilty as I am. You not only withheld evidence, but you lied about it.”
“I don’t believe you.” She was still loud and defiant and angry, but I could hear a little note of uncertainty creeping in.
“Well, I’ve told you,” I said. “But if you’re such a hotshot